


Bullets

by ILLEGAILE



Series: Mercedorks AMG Works [5]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brocedes, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Newis, President'sSon!Nico, Sad, SecretService!Lewis, These boys are in love, i cannot, i cry, secret service au, so much sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILLEGAILE/pseuds/ILLEGAILE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Would you take a bullet for the one you love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bullets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ssilverarrowss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssilverarrowss/gifts), [gingerink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerink/gifts).



_Love is not an affectionate feeling,_

_but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained._

**_CS Lewis_ **

* * *

 

 

> **Stranger**  
>  _noun_  
>  : Someone who you have not met or do not know

 

Lewis made it right on time for him to clock in for body guard duty. It was his second month working in the White House, his job was mostly to stand on the roof and watch for intruders but he’s happy nonetheless. Every day he put into his work got him closer to his goal to become part of the Presidential Protection Unit.

Another year, his commanding officer Toto said he needed one more year of service. Lewis straightened out his suit. He couldn’t wait.

“I quit!”

Lewis looked up and caught sight of his good friend Bruno walking out of the Presidential Office. He smiled at him as he passed by. “Hey Bruno” he waved but the man kept going, exiting the White House altogether with a huff. Lewis frowned, didn’t Bruno get a promotion a week ago?

“Mr. Hamilton?” a very familiar voice called out and Lewis turned around immediately, saluting to the President of the United States. “Lewis, right?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes, sir, President Rosberg” Lewis managed to say without stuttering once, thank God. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” he asked, moving his feet to Parade Rest as he was taught in intensive training.

“Don’t be like that, now. Please, call me Keke.” The bearded man chuckled, waving a hand in the air dismissively.

“Sir?” Lewis looked at him shocked and a little confused. If he humored the President his commanding officer might fire him but if he didn’t obey the President’s orders they’d _still fire him_.

“Mr. Rosberg, if you must. I- I have something I want you to do.” Mr. Rosberg said in a hushed voice, gesturing for Lewis to enter his office. “Come inside”

Lewis stepped into the Presidential Office, shutting the door behind him so that the President could take a seat behind his desk. The room itself was sort of oblong shaped with a large mahogany desk in the middle and tall glass windows behind the President’s seat. And in a couch in one corner sat a young man with the President’s features typing away on his smart phone.

“This is my son, Nico” Mr. Rosberg piped proudly, his son stood up at the mention of his name. He bolted out of his seat, show smile on and on full blast. He approached Lewis and held his hand out for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you” The First Son said, winking.

“And you, sir” Lewis spluttered a little, both because of the winking and because he was taught how to deal with the President not the President’s younger and hotter son. _No Lew, no, calm the fuck down right now_ he berated himself, managing a small smile at the First Son.

The President rolled his eyes but his mouth was twitching up in an amused smile. He crossed his arms, clearing his throat to regain Lewis’ attention. The Brit stood straight under the scrutiny of the President.

“This is very important, Lewis” he muttered lowly, eyeing his son from the corner of his eye. The blonde went back to playing whatever it was on his cellphone from the couch. “Bruno just quit and I need someone to replace him immediately” he sighed.

“I can do it, sir” he answered reflexively, the smirk on Mr. Rosberg’s face making him nervous. What had he just agreed to? He didn’t even know where they assigned Bruno.

“Good” he said faintly, standing up. “I trust you will take good care of my son, as his personal guard.”

Lewis head whipped to the side, staring at the First Son who was staring back at him with an eyebrow raised. The show smile was gone, replaced by a softer more knowing smile. _It can’t be that hard_ , Lewis tried to convince himself.

“Dad, can I go to the bar tonight?”

“No”

“How about a club?”

“Nico, no. Don’t even think about going out tonight.” The President said firmly but the First Son didn’t look at all deterred. In fact, he looked even more determined to go out.

The First Son grinned at him. Getting up from the couch and stalking out the door. Lewis sighed, jogging to catch up with the First Son but by the time Lewis got out of the President’s Office he was already gone.

This was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

 

 

> **Acrimony**  
>  _noun_  
>  : Angry and bitter feelings

 

“I specifically told you to _take good care of my son_ ” the President sneered at Lewis’ face, pacing the floor of the President’s Office in front of him. The First Son was found at three o’ clock in the morning at a dumpster by the club called Petronas and Lewis found him all too late for the President’s liking.

He sat on the couch in the corner, clearly still hungover and laughing like a hyena. As the conversation dragged on, he had hung his head low. He was holding onto his forehead with both hands, the beginning of a migraine invading his senses. Lewis, on the other hand, was screwed.

“You let him into a club, and not just any club. The Petronas is vulgar and uncouth. The son of a President shouldn’t be seen in there. _My son_ shouldn’t be in there!” he screamed, but Lewis looked on without flinching. When he was trained to take a beating he never expected to take a verbal beating.

 _I’m not breaking_ , Lewis thought. His face steeled to meet the President’s gaze. _Courage_ , if he didn’t have it he might as well quit.

“Dad-” The President’s son murmured, his voice slurred from all the alcohol he ingested. The President didn’t let him interrupt.

“This has nothing to do with you” The President hissed, hitting the back of his son’s head with a loud thump. Lewis shot to the First Son’s side, catching him before his face could hit the floor.

“Owww” He moaned, holding Lewis’ arm like a lifeline. Their eyes connected and Lewis forgot the entirety of the night he spent loathing him for getting him in this mess. His father told him to take care of his son then he’s taking care of his son.

“I think you better step away from him, _sir_ ” Lewis said, addressing the President of the United States with as much respect as he could muster while helping the First Son up.

“He’s my son, I have the right to-”

“To _what_ , dad?” He spat, surprising both Lewis and the President. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mister President. If I may, I think this has everything to do with me, yeah?” he said as loud as he could without getting another migraine.

“You be silent or I will make you be silent, sit down!” Mr. Rosberg screamed, forcing his son to sit on the couch. Lewis looked at the President then at the First Son. “Take him away” the President ordered.

“But Dad-”

“Take him away, _now_ ” Mr. Rosberg said, cutting his son off before he could speak and Lewis breaks. Enough is enough. Who gives a rat’s ass if he’s the President? He’s a _father_ first.

“No” Lewis said plainly. “You need to talk to him”

“I do not, take him away” the President insisted, glaring at Lewis.

“Mr. Rosberg, your son is thirty years old he can do what he pleases” Lewis explains, all too aware that both Mr. Rosberg and his son have gone silent. “You can’t keep him under your thumb forever and that’s why I left him alone. He deserves to have some fun.”

“Why you insolent-”

“Just because he’s the President’s son doesn’t mean he has to act like a President. He has a life outside of this one and you’re his father first of all. Never forget that Mister President.” Lewis finishes and he can feel the First Son staring at him with his big blue eyes. He’d rather not have to look at him right now. “May I be excused?”

The President grinned at Lewis, the tension of the room dropping. “Thank you, Lewis. We will see you tomorrow”

And with one last baffled glance, Lewis was out the door.

“I like him” Keke said, leveling an amused look at his son still gaping after the Secret Service agent.

“Yeah” Nico smiled faintly. “He’s okay”

* * *

 

> **Respect**  
>  _noun_  
>  : To see value in an individual  
>  : To have a high regard or esteem for a person based on their good qualities

 

Lewis is in the shooting range in standard issue sweat shorts and a white shirt that clings wetly to his form the next time he sees the First Son.

“How’d you know?”

He spins around, gun still in hand but it’s pointed down to the ground. _Don’t want to shoot the President’s son_ , he thought while switching the safety back on. His headphones only cover his right ear but he figures he’ll need to listen intently to the First Son to protect him better so he pulls his headphones down around his neck. “Sir?”

“Don’t call me that” he rolled his eyes, running a hand through his blonde hair consciously. Lewis is beginning to notice it’s a habit of his. “Call me Nico”

“Sir Rosberg-”

“That’s my dad” the First Son crosses his arms and all Lewis can think of is that none of the agents called the First Son by his first name. He’s not thinking about how surprisingly toned the First Son’s arms are poorly concealed by his Superdry shirt. No. “Call me Nico, _neeee coooooee_.”

Lewis can’t help it, Nico’s face is all screwed up when he pronounces his name by syllable and Lewis laughs. “Alright, _Nico_ ” he says, ignoring the way it rolled off his tongue like he was meant to say it. He can say it all day if he wanted to. Nico. _Funny how just four letters could mean so much_ , he thinks idly, freezing when he realized how wrong his thought process was.

Nico Rosberg, President’s son, his assignment, one year, Presidential Protection Unit. To be on that unit was all he’d ever wanted.

So, why did it feel so _wrong_ now?

“-is it hard?”

Lewis blinks, realizing ~~Nico~~ _the First Son_ has been talking this entire time. “What?”

“You idiot” he chuckles. “I said, shooting a gun, is it hard?” he asks again, taking Lewis hand to examine the gun he’s holding. Lewis subtly shifts the gun so it isn’t facing him and by the look on his face it’s obvious that it wasn’t subtle enough. “Clever”

Lewis shrugs. “I have to protect you”

“Will you show me?” Nico asks, taking the gun in his soft hands and guiding it to the target. Their hands brush and Lewis thinks of his callouses. He thinks of the fact that Nico doesn’t have any, he’s a clean slate. Innocent as the driven snow even if he goes out to drink a lot. He thinks of how hard Nico is trying not to be the President’s son.

He realizes he’s started calling him Nico again.

“ _Shit_ ” ~~Nico~~ **_the First Son_** pulls the trigger and is almost blown back by the force. Lewis’ hand is on his back in an instant to support him and the First Son pretends not to notice. Lewis’ other hand guides the First Son’s fingers on the metal of the gun.

“When you release-”Lewis explains, taking his headphones and resting it on the First Son’s head. He’s staring at Lewis intently, soaking up all the knowledge he can. “Breathe out” Lewis says and the First Son takes a deep breath, shifting so that his right ear was free of the obstruction. Free to hear the pop of the gun.

He breathes out.

His finger eases off the trigger.

And the bullet sails straight through the middle circle on the target.

The First Son puts the gun down, Lewis’ headphones drop to hang loosely around his neck and there’s a huge smile on his face when he turns around to look at Lewis. “I did it” he giggles. The First Son – thirty years old and all – giggles like a toddler.

“You sure did, sir-” Lewis is about to say when the First Son interrupts him, his gangly limbs wrapping around Lewis’ neck and he’s all too conscious of the fact that _the President’s son is hugging him_.

“Nico” he says firmly, his breath ghosting over the skin of Lewis’ exposed neck. There’s no way Nico didn’t feel the chill running up Lewis’ spine because it feels like his everything is on _fire_. “That was a little hard” he admits.

Lewis hesitates before wrapping his arms around his waist. “You did awesome, Nico”

* * *

 

 

> **Friendship**  
>  _noun_  
>  : A mutual attitude of kindness or friendliness

 

Its two weeks later and they are practically inseparable. Looking for the First Son? He’s with Lewis Hamilton. Looking for Lewis? He’s with the President’s son. Its common knowledge all over the White House that Lewis is Nico’s personal guard. There’s no seeing Nico without seeing Lewis right next to him. It would be the definition of bizarre.

On this such day, Lewis is standing outside one of the White House’s many restrooms waiting for Nico to finish up when he sees Jenson Button.

“Hey Lewis!” he greets the younger man with a fist bump. “How’s Princess duty?” he snickers and Lewis rolls his eyes at his fellow Brit.

“Watching Nico’s been alright” he answers no muss and no fuss, just truth. Now that they finally managed some mutual respect it was fairly easy to watch over Nico.

Jenson squinted at Lewis, smirking like he’s the Cheshire Cat and Lewis is Alice. “Oh, looking after _Nico_ , huh?” he teases, poking Lewis in the stomach.

“Fuck off” Lewis scolds, hearing the telltale flushing of a toilet and turning in time for Nico to exit to bathroom. “Hey” he greets, a warm feeling in his gut when Nico smiles softly at him.

“Hey Lew” he replies, frowning when he spots Jenson.

“Princess!” Jenson says loudly, jumping onto Nico and ruffling his hair. Lewis laughs, letting Jenson do his thing. He was completely harmless anyway.

“Get off me” Nico pouts, trying to pry himself out of Jenson’s widely feared noogie hold before Jenson could mess up his hair. “You’re supposed to protect me” Nico says, attempting to reach for Lewis’ arm and failing.

“You’re completely fine” he continues to laugh, undeterred by the faces Nico was making at him.

“We’re not friends anymore” Nico crosses his arms and huffs, walking away as soon as Jenson let go of him. And Lewis followed, ruffling his hair some more just because he can.

“You don’t mean that” he says confidently, trying to figure out when they ended up being friends in the first place.

* * *

 

 

> **Fondness**  
>  _noun_  
>  : Tender affection or attachment

 

They’re both at some gala and Nico is entertaining some governor’s daughter and Lewis is _bored_. 

“He’s different, isn’t he?” Lewis head whips to the side to the woman in a satin silver dress and long blonde hair. She’s beautiful. “He’s special” she says, pointing at Nico with her right hand still wrapped around her champagne glass. Lewis lets his gaze linger on Nico for a while, he’s just asked the governor’s daughter for a dance and they’re making their way to the dance floor.

“He’s something” Lewis muses, sparing a glance at the woman next to him. “Are you his-”

“Oh God, no. We’ve tried, believe me. But I’ve never gotten him, not in the way you get him Mister Lewis Hamilton.” She winks, downing the rest of her champagne and taking a new one from a passing waiter. “I’m his friend, Vivian” she introduces herself with a smile and a little bow and Lewis asks himself why wouldn’t Nico want to stay with a girl like Vivian?

“You must be pretty special yourself to still be around” she laughs, like church bells chiming softly at a distance and Lewis’ brows knit together in confusion. “His bodyguards never last for long, a month at the most” she informs him with a nudge.

“Why not?” Lewis asks, trying to hide his genuine concern but the smile on Vivian’s face begs to differ.

“It’s hard to care about Nico Rosberg, he makes it hard for anyone to care about him” she starts to explain, a frown marring her dainty feminine features. “He doesn’t want anyone to take the bullet for him ever again” she finishes.

Lewis is frowning as well now, his eyes searching Vivian’s for answers he doesn’t have. But instead of answering, Vivian presses her cellphone into his hand. On it is a picture of a newspaper heading from years ago.

 **“First Lady takes a bullet for her Son.”**  
President Keke Rosberg’s wife dies in an assassination attempt   
protecting the life of their little boy, Nico Erik Rosberg _(more on Page 6)_.

 

“Lewis, he’s fond of you” He looks at Vivian, there are tears in her eyes but she’s smiling all the same. “I need to know” she hiccups a little, placing her hand on the shoulder of Lewis’ suit.

“Would you take a bullet for him?” she asks seriously and Lewis doesn’t even need to think about it. He nods.

“In a heartbeat” he confesses.

Vivian laughs again, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief to get rid of the wetness. She looks happy, but most of all she looks _relieved_. She looks like she’s finally found the answer.

“Thank you” she says, but Lewis feels like she’s got it all wrong.

He watches Nico from where he stands next to Vivian and thinks about how something has definitely shifted here. Thinks about Nico’s mom and of taking a bullet for Nico, deciding he wouldn’t mind dying for him.

“I’m fond of him too, Vivian” he says because he just feels like he has to say it or his heart will explode.

Vivian kisses him on the cheek and wipes the kiss mark from her lipstick away, whispering into his ear.

“I know”

* * *

 

 

> **Devotion  
>  **_noun_  
>  : A feeling of strong loyalty

 

“What were you and Vivian talking about yesterday?” Nico asks out of the blue one day when he and Lewis go to Lewis’ tiny apartment near the White House to get some clothes for Lewis. He can’t really stay at home often so he has a small room in the White House next to Nico’s so he can hear if Nico needs something at night.

“You saw that?” Lewis scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, shoving some shirts and pants into his backpack. He had to change his shirt too, the one he was wearing smelled really badly. He’s supposed to blend in when Nico goes out in public.

“Yeah, I saw her kiss you” Nico teased, making kissy faces at Lewis.

“You’re a brat” Lewis rolls his eyes, peeling his shirt off and rooting around for a new one. “We were talking about you”

Nico stops prodding at Lewis’ things and smirks. “Oh really?”

“She mentioned the incident with your mom” Lewis said a little warily but Nico continued to smile, gesturing at Lewis to continue so Lewis kept rooting around for a shirt. “She said you two went out”

“That’s it?” Nico said, sinking into Lewis’ barely used bed. It’s such a waste.

Lewis had to laugh before he told Nico this one. “She asked if I would take a bullet for you, what kind of question is that, right?” he scoffed, expecting Nico to start laughing.

More silence.

“Nico?” Lewis asked but he got no answer and when he turned to check on Nico he was sitting upright again brushing a hand through his hair.

“Did you say yes?” he asked, looking more worried than Lewis had ever seen him before.

Nico was definitely _not_ laughing.

“Of course I did, what kind of question is that?” Lewis managed to say before Nico was up and in front of him with a hand on his forearm.

“Don’t” he said, staring Lewis in the eye and there’s a fire there that refused to go out. It’s very distracting. “I don’t want you to take a bullet for me” he says firmly and Lewis pushes him away for a moment, frowning at his friend.

“Well tough luck, Nico. That’s kind of my job.” He spits, his voice biting and sarcastic and he regrets snapping at Nico instantly but he doesn’t know how to stop. If he doesn’t get angry he’ll do the exact opposite and that’s much worse than having to deal with an angry Nico for a while.

Nico doesn’t get the hint, it only makes Nico draw closer to him. “It doesn’t have to be like this-”

“I have to protect you” Lewis insists, his teeth grating against each other in rage at what Nico was implying.

“I don’t want your protection” Nico spits back and Lewis knows he doesn’t mean it but it still feels like Nico’s stabbed him in the back and before he knows it he’s got Nico by the collar shoving him against a wall but all he sees is red.

“Now you listen to- mpfhh”

Nico’s hands tread themselves into Lewis’ hair and in a surge of determination he plants his lips on Lewis’ demanding and fiery, his legs wrapping around his best friend’s waist. Lewis can feel Nico’s tongue dragging out of his mouth and tasting every inch of Lewis’ mouth that he can like a madman. His fingers rake all over Lewis’ chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos and Lewis moans into Nico’s mouth. Lewis head is spinning and he can hear Nico’s harsh breathing mixing with his own and he can’t get his heart to calm down because this is it. This is what shifted. This is what he’s been wanting for forever and-

No!

He pulls away, ignoring the sad look on Nico’s face. Ignoring the identical swells in their pants and the way Nico’s eyes were dilated with hunger. Ignoring the swirl of wantnowniconicoohnico and the three words he never thought he’d say wanting to burst out his mouth. Ignore the urge to kiss him again and kiss him first this time. Ignore your urge to _love him_. Ignore **everything**.

He sets Nico down on his own two feet and pulls on his shirt. He doesn’t care if its messy, it’s too late. He has to leave.

“Lewis?”

He has to leave _now_.

With the last of his strength he bolts out of his apartment and out of Nico’s life.

 

* * *

 

 

> **Trust**  
>  _noun_  
>  : The belief that someone is good

 

He’s back where it all started except it’s him instead of Bruno, he’s the one quitting, and the one taking his place standing in the hallway outside of the President’s Office is Nico Rosberg.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nico says and a month ago Lewis would think he was pissed but he knows too much now. Everything’s changed, it’s like he’s hyperaware of everything related to this man. Nico isn’t angry, though he tries so hard to be, he’s hurt. Deep down, Lewis feels guilty for leaving him like this after promising him he’d protect him but there’s no other way.

“I’m quitting” he says bluntly and Nico blocks his way. He really should have seen it coming. “Get out of my way, Nico”

“You can’t _d_ o this, please” Nico begs, his hands warm and tempting on Lewis arm but Lewis isn’t facing him too afraid to look and see what he’s done to Nico. “You can’t leave”

“I have to” he says, prying his arm away from the First Son but Nico loops his arms around Lewis’ waist hugging him. He’s not about to let go, not now.

“You don’t, I could pretend it never happened. Please, is it something I did?” Nico babbles, his tears soaking through Lewis’ standard issue training shirt and Lewis heart feels like its crumpling. He can’t leave like this, he has to tell Nico the truth.

“I’m emotionally compromised” he says quietly and Nico’s hold on him loosens.

“Lew-”

“I can’t protect you because this-” he raises his hands, both shaking and completely unstable. Unreliable. “These feelings, they’re dangerous, Nico” Lewis swallows thickly and carefully pulls Nico’s limbs away from him.

“I have too many feelings for you”

He runs a hand through Nico’s hair one last time and leaves a chaste kiss on Nico’s forehead but he doesn’t say what is in his heart because he knows it will ruin him.

 ~~He knows it will ruin them _both_~~.

He lets him go, his touch lingers like his fingers are greedy for more of Nico’s touch and he has to struggle to get himself to smile.

“Goodbye, Nico”

H e  w a l k s  a w a y . . .

 

* * *

 

 

> **Love**  
>  _noun_  
>  : An unselfish, loyal, and benevolent concern for the good of another person

 

 

It takes three days for Lewis to accept the fact that Nico’s gone from his life and the realization makes him want to cry or drop dead. So, he decides to go for a run.

It’s a bad idea.

Normally, the route he takes is relaxing but once he heads back to his apartment he realizes he’s going to end up running past the White House on the way back. Lewis wrings his hands and begins his jog. He’s got five minutes to compose himself, he’ll be fine.

 _Just walk past it_ , Lewis he thinks even though his heart is thumping at twice its normal rate and his face is definitely red. _Walk right past it_.

When he reaches the White House he’s greeted by a sea of people blocking his path looking at a stage, President Rosberg is climbing up to the podium and it takes a moment for Lewis to remember that Mr. Rosberg was addressing the public on his new bill today.

“God damn it” he curses, trying to make his way through the crowd when-

**_BANG BANG BANG BANG_ **

 

“Get down!” he screams reflexively reaching for the people closest to him and pulling them to the ground. When he looks up the agents, he recognizes Jenson and Fernando in the fray, are shooting back at the terrorists gunning them but without knowing where they were coming from they were having a hard time pulling it together.

“The President!” Jenson yells at the other men but most of them were already bleeding on the ground. This attack was _planned_.

“ _Lewis?!?!_ ” Lewis turned around, Nico was hiding behind a chair under heavy fire.

 _Nico_ , Lewis thought, standing bolt upright. “Nico!” he shouted, watching in horror as the blonde came out from the cover of the chair he had been sitting in and jumped down from the stage. “Nico, take cover for fucks sake-”

A bullet whizzed past him right in front of his face and his head whipped sideways, his eyes met the eyes of a sniper. The man was burly and all dressed in black, his gun shifting targets when he realized Lewis had seen him. Lewis followed the sniper’s trajectory and-

“Fuck”

Lewis’ gaze landed on Nico.

The sniper pulled the trigger-

“Nico, no!” he screams, throwing himself in front of ~~the President’s son~~ his best friend and feeling the sharp pain of a bullet piercing through his lower abdomen as he fell to the ground.

His ears rang…

 

“On the left” he heard Jenson say. “Open fire!” gun shots pierced through the cold Washington air and Lewis pressed his hand against the bullet wound, he was bleeding. His ears were _ringingggggg_.

“Lew-L-wis, -l-ase.”

Lewis groaned, too tired to make out the words. Why can’t he just pass out like in movies? This was way more painful that he thought it would be.

“Lewis, you asshole” Nico wheezed, turning him over so he was facing the sky and Nico’s face hovering over his. He was barely keeping his eyes open. “Why- why would you do this-” he breathed in, he was breathing too harshly. He held up his hand - the one that wasn’t drenched in blood - and swept Nico’s bangs out of his face, rubbing his calloused thumb against the skin of Nico’s cheek.

“Breathe” he managed to whisper but all this did was make tears gather in Nico’s beautiful blue eyes.

Nico struggled to speak, his hand reaching up to rest his hand above Lewis’. “Stay with me, we’ll get you to a hospital” Nico insisted. “You’ll be fine”

 Lewis wiped his hand against his shirt and pulled Nico down, his hand holding the back of his neck. Their forehead’s touch and Lewis can feel Nico’s labored breathing on his lips when he kisses him chastely.

“I love you” he whispers.

And his eyes  f a l l  s  h  u  t  . . .

 

“Lew?” Nico’s tears start to fall, littering Lewis’ face like glitter. If it were anyone else Nico would think it poetic but its Lewis and Lewis was never meant to do this. He was meant to live forever. And he never even _told_ him. “Please wake up”

Lewis’ arms fall slowly to the ground but Nico manages to catch the one Lewis laid on his cheek, he holds Lewis hand in both of his and kisses all the bones in his knuckles. “I need you” he sobs, leaning down and kissing every inch of his face once he’s kissed his entire hand. Like he’ll die if he stops.

Except it feels like he’s already dead inside.

“Come back to me” he says against Lewis’ lips, tears streaming down his face with the palm of Lewis’ hand on his chest and his forehead on Lewis’ he feels a hand on his shoulder.

 

“The paramedics are here” Fernando squats to try and pull Nico away from Lewis’ body and Nico hisses at him. “You have to let go”

“Never”

“Sir Rosberg-” Fernando tries to convince him but goes quiet when Nico starts sobbing again.

“I love you” he murmurs, holding Lewis’ prone form in his arms while the paramedics set up the gurney some ways away. “I love you, too”


	2. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

* * *

 

_When love is not madness it is not love._

**Pedro Calderon de la Barca**

* * *

 

Some people write about falling unconscious and waking up like you've been awake the entire time. You see the darkness and there's a light that you touch and bang- you're awake.

This is how Lewis woke up.

Lewis gasped, attempting to get up but the pain of his wound hit him like a frying pan. _God, that was a bad idea_ he thought, his body wracking with the force of his coughs. Where was he?

He looked up, forcing his eyelids to open and focus on the plain white ceiling. He's in a hospital, obviously.

His eyes dropped to lone hospital chair next to his bed and it's occupant.

"What-wha" the fluffy blonde haired whirlwind of a man muttered in his sleep, Lewis' right hand tucked loosely in his grasp.

Lewis smiled softly, pulling his hand out from Nico's grasp and into his hair. It's a little sticky, as if he hadn't left Lewis' side in days, and his cellphone is in his numb hand. Lewis contemplates calling someone to get Nico but the blonde decides for him. His grip on the phone proved too strong unless Lewis wanted to wake him up.

Nico has started murmuring again when the door to Lewis' room swings open. It's President Keke Rosberg.

Lewis groaned, he had just woken up too. He so didn't want to deal with this. Why won't the world just let him stare at sleeping Nico?

"Good to see you both alive and well" Mr. Rosberg grins, leaning against the wall next to his sleeping son. It's a wonder that the man didn't find this strange.

"Likewise, Mr. President" Lewis nodded at him, placing his hand in Nico's hair because why not? If it makes the President uncomfortable he can say so.

... When did Nico turn him into a rebel?

"Please, you saved my son. You may very well be my future son-in-law, call me Keke." Keke rolls his eyes and there's so much Nico in that one gesture that he almost wakes him up because he misses him.

"Lewis" he looked up and met the President's gaze. He wouldn't come here for kicks. He has something important to say.

"Yeah?"

Keke sighed, clearing his throat. "For your bravery" he began, giving him a little nod of approval. "You've been invited to be a part of the Presidential Protection Unit"

"Oh my God, this-this is unbelievable. I mean, this is a dream come true-" Lewis jerked upright again, careful not to wake Nico in his excitement- wait.

He looked down again. _Nico_.

"But I can't" he says more to himself than the president.

"Beg pardon?"

Lewis bit his lip and spoke. "I'm sorry Mister President but I'm assigned to the care and protection of the First Son" he smiled faintly, not noticing the similar smile on Keke's face.

Nico stirred again, his hand creeping across the itchy cotton of the hospital bed to wrap itself around Lewis' hand again as if it had a tracker. Lewis laid back and returned to his rest, secure in the knowledge that his charge was safe and next to him.

"There's no other place on Earth I'd rather be"


End file.
